


I Never Meant to Use You (As My Stepping Stone)

by laumeidelfin



Series: Look at my Mistakes (You) [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Post Raw, definite heelish!roman, future rolleigns, mentions of: braun strowman ; dean ambrose, past rolleigns, slight AU, torn roman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laumeidelfin/pseuds/laumeidelfin
Summary: It's the end of Raw on August 27th, and Roman is furious. Just wanting to be alone, he heads backstage to his locker room, needing to sort through his thoughts, more surprised than he wants to be when Rollins follows him.





	I Never Meant to Use You (As My Stepping Stone)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Look at me, posting this on time. Whose proud? I am :D Anyways, I listened to Eminem's new album, Kamikaze while writing this, so I highly suggest listening to it while reading, even if it is short. If you don't want to listen to the whole album though, I suggest playing Stepping Stone and Venom, at least, as they were true inspirations. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time. It meant the world to me :)

It takes him a few minutes to get his ass into a sitting position, to focus not on the pain he's feeling, or the two _brothers_ surrounding him, but on the three men standing outside of the ring, laughing in his face. He feels an anger buried deep in the pit of his stomach rising, like a volcano, and he tries to ignore the reminder of the words that Se-Rollins once said about him. His hands curl into fists at his side, the urge to punch something – _someone_ – high. Unfortunately, one of the men he wants to punch and _can_ punch in this moment, are on the opposite side of him, cheering on Strowman, acting like what they did tonight was a _good thing_. Roman wants to scoff – nearly does but stops himself in case he ends up looking crazy, slowly moving his body upwards, kneeling to his knees as his gaze doesn't waver from Strowman, narrowed and angry, a fire blazing inside of them. Movement to his side causes him to focus briefly on the men next to him and it takes everything he has not to let loose a growl, not to roll his eyes and most importantly, to not spear one of them and punch them until he loses focus. He needs to keep himself calm, he knows, needs to remember that this is all part of a damn plan, tonight especially, but –

Shit if it doesn't piss him off, necessary or not. He turns his gaze towards Strowman, eyes still narrowed before letting out the tiniest nod. Message received by the larger man, the self-proclaimed _monster_ , Roman watches as he brings his lackeys back towards the top of the ramp, slowly letting out a relieved breath when they finally disappear from his sight before he tenses, remembering that he's still sharing a ring with two men he doesn't trust. His eyes sweep the area surrounding him, briefly recognizing that the pain Ambrose is showing isn't real, that he's faking and part of him narrows his eyes at the realization, knowing that he's not the only one with a plan with that movement. It's something he has to watch, he realizes – that he's no doubt, not the only person in this group with plans on turning. All the better, he thinks, eyes sweeping to Rollins before straightening when he realizes the younger man is staring at him with a furrowed brow.

Heart racing, Roman takes a step forward, and then another and another before eventually, he's moving his body down, slipping between ropes and jumping on the ground, cringing slightly as he feels like there's juice sloshing between his ribs. He's going to have to get that checked out, he knows, but he ignores the thought and makes his way up the ramp himself, looking back briefly when he realizes that Rollins is following him at a steady pace, almost like he wants to reach Roman but realizes that Roman doesn't want to be reached.

The thought causes him to growl lightly at the younger man, loud enough for Rollins to stop and pause, but only Rollins as Roman continues to move forward, relaxing completely, fingers running through his hair as he reaches the gorilla and moves the curtain away, narrowing his eyes when he sees the bosses watching him wearily. No doubt they heard the growl, but they haven't listened to him and his pleas over turning, and he knows they have something different in mind.

It's disgusting he thinks, moving past them and towards the locker room he's thankful he can call his own for the week. They won't ever let him move forward, keeping him in a stasis of boos and cheers and what if's, and it fucking annoys him. He wants to do what he should've been able to do so fucking long ago, and maybe that's why they're not too thrilled with him, watching him wearily.

Because they know – they fucking _realize_ that he's done listening to them, that he's taking this shit into his own hands.

Getting to his locker room is quick, and with a slam of the door closing, Roman lets himself relax completely, letting the tension flow from his shoulders and out of his body, which clumps onto the ground against the wall, a small breath of relief escaping from him as he closes his eyes. Darkness is immediate and Roman finds himself finally at peace, his mind flying with a million different thoughts before he finally focuses on one that he finds rather important to him lately.

Turning.

Putting Ambrose and Rollins through hell – the hell he went through when those two were off fucking with each other, throwing cinder blocks at one another, punches and kicks, not realizing that he was hurting too. And if not that, then turning on _him_ , just because he had an opportunity, or a title. He was done with this shit.

He was done being their _stepping stone_ , he thinks, eyes opening as he tilts his head back, mouth forming a small snarl as his hands curl into fists once more. He was done being the person they walked over.

He was done, really, in general.

Letting out another breath, Roman looks to the door when he hears it opening, eyebrow arching when he spots Rollins in the doorway, stopping suddenly, biting on his lower lip. Roman doesn't get him, he realizes. Before, back when they were something, Rollins only did that when he was hesitant, unsure, but Roman shouldn't be giving that vibe off now.

He shouldn't be making Rollins feel that way, he realizes. He's not doing his part properly if he's making the younger man feel like that. He lets himself relax, but not completely – just enough for Rollins to relax himself, just enough for Rollins to believe there's nothing wrong between them.

"'Sup," he asks, slowly standing to his feet and grabbing his towel, hiding his face briefly under the guise of wiping the sweat from his face. He hides for a quick few seconds, breathing in the smell of laundry before throwing the towel away and looking towards the younger man with his eyebrow arched once more, fingers deftly going to the steps on his vest and undoing them, needing to no longer be restricted.

He allows himself to lose himself for the time, doing these familiar movements, allows himself to believe it's the beginning of the shield and that there's no moments of bitterness and hurt between them, though he's aware of every movement that Rollins makes. From side to side, fingers moving to his hair, then to a loose piece of thread, then to his shoulders, Rollins doesn't stop moving and –

Roman would be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss it. But he doesn't know this man. He knows _Seth_ , and this man isn't Seth. He hasn't been Seth since that day in June, he thinks.

And he doesn't want to get to know this man either.

_Lies_.

He shakes his head at that thought, looking towards Rollins once more and letting out a frustrated breath, foot moving forward to lightly kick Rollins, the man's attention to him once more. Roman's skin crawls, fingers clenching as he removes the vest, but he acts like it doesn't affect him.

"What're ya doin' here, Seth," he asks, nearly slipping and calling the younger man Rollins, hands reaching for his shirt before he freezes when the man steps forward. His heart pounds in a way he wishes he was unfamiliar with but remembers like it was the first time, sheets covering them as small kisses are peppered on bare chests. Blinking, Roman finds himself looking towards Rollins, upper teeth biting on his lower lip as he briefly tilts his head and waits for Rollins to say something. He remains quiet though, and he has to breath, has to try and remain patient, wondering what the hell the man wants. He can see Seth – shit, _Rollins_ , damn it, open and close his mouth, and Roman doesn't understand whatever the hell is stopping Rollins from speaking.

"Seriously, man, just –" He breaks off, eyes widening when he feels Seth surge forward and kiss him, biting on his lower lip. Roman remains tense for a few minutes, fingers opening and closing, unsure of what the hell he should do. When he feels Seth begin to pull away though, his brain catches up with him and –

He pulls the younger man closer by the neck, opening his mouth and letting his tongue duel with Seth's, thoughts falling away as if it's year previous, as if he's happy and not planning on ruining the younger man the same way, the same time –

The thought makes him break away, panting heavily as he lets go of Seth's – **_Rollins'_** – neck, shaking his head. Eyes look down upon the man's lips before he looks away, wiping his face, exhaustion clearly obvious.  


"Y'know why we can't, Seth," he whispers, looking away and folding his arms inwards. His heart was broken, he remembers, the night a chair his back. They had talked of a future, had talked of moving in and eventually, planning a wedding. And then the chair hit and Roman knew that he had been played. And sure, it had been years. And sure, it seemed like he had forgiven the younger man ( _apology, apology, where's my apology, motherfucker_ ) but this –

He didn't want to do this.

_Yes he did_.

**No**. He didn't want to fall for the younger man all over again, and then pull the trigger and do exactly what was done to him.

No one deserved that hurt, no matter how much Roman believed otherwise.

_And you believe otherwise quite a lot_.

He looks at the younger man once again, stepping away and closing his eyes, letting out a breath when he hears Rollins ask why. What kind of answer could he give the younger man, he thinks, looking at him, wrecked, shoulders shrugging.

How is he s'posed to tell Rollins that he's the devil, and he can't let the devil in once again? Letting out another breath, he's surprised to see Rollins step forward, take his hand slowly, looking at him carefully, eyes open and vulnerable.

"Whatever is going through your mind, Rome?" Rollins whispers, leaning upwards to run his fingers through his hair and Roman lets out a shuddering breath, kissing the palm of Rollins' hand before stepping backwards.

"We can't. Accept that." He finishes, turning his back and tilting his head down, eyes closing to stop tears from forming. He's not this man anymore. He's not weak, damn it. He nearly jumps when he feels arms wrap around his waist, a head resting against his back.

He knows it's Rollins and, in this moment, he lets it happen. He's not facing the man, he's not appearing weak.

After all, even if Ambrose isn't here in this moment – they ain't gonna know what hit 'em.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, folks. Come talk to me on my tumblr, chudovyygirl. :)


End file.
